Pop | “Demons” by Imagine Dragons

Can’t get this out of my head right now.

They say it’s what you make
I say it’s up to fate
It’s woven in my soul
I need to let you go

Your eyes, they shine so bright
I wanna save that light
I can’t escape this now
Unless you show me how

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

Lyrics posted on Google Play. Album on Google Play and Amazon.


A Recurring Dream

Source: Sparky Malarky 6 June 2011 Post
Source: Sparky Malarky 6 June 2011 Post

So, I’ve been having this dream lately where I am some kind of spy–not some kind of spy (like Duchess over there) where I’m super awesome or taking down major terrorist rings–just a general, typical, collecting info and absconding with it kind of spy. Only, it is nearly impossible for me to ever abscond! Let me explain…

My first memory of these kinds of dreams is whether or not I get out or into the building successfully. These dreams seem to fit into two different kinds of experiences, either I am A) trying to break into the building, collect information, and then leave; or B) I have already broken in, I’m taking the data, and I never make it out of the building. More often than not they fall into the B category, but they are both equally unsettling.

The location always seems to be the same, though. An abandoned-looking warehouse kind of place. Sometimes it’s covered in cement, and I see it from a distance…

Source: Blogger Research Post for Creative Media

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That Stormy May Evening

Last night there were some pretty nasty storms that generated nasty tornadoes in my area (The Four-State Region near SW Missouri), and I just want to send all my thoughts and prayers to the people suffering from damage or losses of life due to the natural disaster. Joplin, I read, is sending assistance to Moore, OK, and it just reminds me of all the help we received just two years ago.

Prayers and blessings to all who are struggling with repair and loss.

On a Stormy May Evening

Not to mention I had to get that political garbage off my main page. I mean, it was okay during the election, but now that’s all over we can move on to bigger things…

Like streamlining my Internet presence. Moved from Blogger and brought it all to WordPress. It’s just easier, honestly, to keep it all in one place. Just like I use Yoono for FB, Twitter, and LinkedIn… But I’m slowly getting tired of it. It seems sluggish, and not as streamlined as I originally thought. I may have to look into a new hub of networking.

Anyway, just wanted a current update… And I should probably get off this beast for the night.


Hey all!

This here is my mini-update:

Working custodial for the summer at UNI. Some days are better than others. My faith in humanity dies a little bit after every destroyed room or moldy fridge I clean, but if it only takes that much I didn’t have much to begin with. 😉 Also, I think every dorm building made with brick and mortar need to be air conditioned on the regular. For realisies, I think I might die one of these days just from heat exhaustion/dehydration. I come home everyday a puddle of my former self…

I’m also working ahead on the readings for my comprehensive exams. I have two: one written and one oral. My written exam is over three books “Drinking Coffee Elsewhere” by ZZ Packer, “Frankenstein” Shelley’s original 1818 edition, and “The Canterbury Tales” by Chaucer. If anyone knows of a good Chaucer decoder ring, I would totally trade my soul for it. Frankly, the words in that book and my potential inability to understand them frighten me. The written exam will be taking place in the Fall of 2010. My oral exam is a 60 minute discussion over 15-25 texts that helped me write my thesis (200 pages of prose fiction/my novel). This I’m only a little bit scared about. But I’m sure once it gets closer to the date (Spring 2011), I will be aptly shitting myself. Ugh…

Other than that, I’ve just been sitting back, being cozy in my apartment. Looking for that special someone to fill my thoughts and heart. Eh, but that will come in time. For now, I’m just writing, reading, working and loving every rotten, stinking, putrid minute of it! 😀

Maury Povich+Unemployment Line=

People must have started using condoms… Before you start reading–This is a RANT, and I tend to curse like a sailor and overuse CAPS… Just a warning…

So, there I was checking my email and all of a sudden I come across this message from Pointless Banter which is a collection of funny blogs edited together by funny blogger Kevin Palmer. Anyway, it’s a funny site and you should definitely check it out. Sign up for email updates. It will put a smile on your face every time! 🙂

But I digress… The posted “Featured Video” on this site comes to us from an episode of Maury Povich where a young woman is trying to determine the paternity of her child. Hmm, it seems Mr. Povich has covered topics like this before, but I may be wrong. I don’t watch a lot of his show; and, frankly, I don’t want to start.

However, I really think Lifestyles, Trojans, and whoever-the-fuck-else makes condoms ought to step up their marketing plans and put Maury Povich out of a job. Does the guy do shows about things other than women who sleep with multitudes of men and can’t determine who is the “baby daddy”???

The video lasts less than 30 seconds, long enough for one of the multitudes in question to discover from Mr. Host With the Least that he is not the young woman’s “baby daddy.” Immediately, he is so excited that his sperm failed the ultimate test he begins jumping around and dancing like he won a million dollars (more like saved it…). To which, the young lady responds by sitting down, putting her head in her hands, and crying. The crowd is jubilant with the man, also rising from their seats and dancing in a fit of joy!

From this, and previous situations enacted on pieces of daytime TV much like this, I have determined and wondered just a couple of things:

1) First, foremost, and most important–How fucking hard is it, really, to NOT FUCK THE FIRST PERSON WHO APPROACHES YOU?! I mean, really. Ladies, gentlemen–anyone who decides sex is what they want to do today–pick someone worth a shit, and if it happens to be someone of the opposite gender of you, USE A FUCKING CONDOM! And maybe invest in some fucking birth control. It’s not as if we need more unprepared, bored-ass idiots floating around creating more unprepared, bored-ass idiots. There are plenty of condom companies and clinics who offer free services to the uneducated blights on society who insist on making more.

2) Have enough self-respect and dignity to NOT TAKE THIS SERIOUS FUCKING SUBJECT ON TO DAYTIME TV! Hello?! Do you realize more idiots will watch you and make an example out of you? Not one preventing others from acting like you… No, no. But an example to FOLLOW! Some poor young girl who thinks the only way to get on TV (If Mr. Fucking Pathetic Povich can count as TV) is to fuck 30 men, pop out one kid–MIRACULOUSLY!– and then go to Maury Povich for the paternity test. Is he offering them free? Is that what’s happening? Do these poor fucking Schmuck TV Producers offer free paternity tests to these girls and ask them to bring on the worst fucking contenders for Daddy of the Year?! Because these assholes need to be drug out into the street and shot! Personally, I think the crowd ought to be drug out and shot as well. The bastards were cheering because this poor girl ruined her life, and just wanted someone to help her out… It’s disgusting…

3) LADIES–yes, LADIES. Take some fucking control for yourself, have some fucking self-respect. Don’t believe every fucking man who says he loves you! Put something higher on your priority list of shit to do today: an education, reading a book, or maybe getting a job. And, for the love of everything holy, don’t get pregnant with a man who doesn’t love you or have any respect for you just to keep him. It is the dumbest thing you could ever possibly do. There are enough miserable people floating around who don’t think their parents love them. Don’t make any more. It is YOUR responsibility; take it! If you want to have casual sex, do it SMART. Do it RIGHT. Don’t hope to God some idiotic DUDE will have your best interests at heart when all he wants from you (or you want from him) is sex.

Really, I mean, c’mon… it seems like common sense but there are still idiotic people out there thinking it won’t happen to them. It can’t happen to them. Not the first time. Not the one hundredth time. IT CAN AND WILL HAPPEN TO YOU! You aren’t special. So, to make up for your ordinariness, BE SMART! Use condoms, save sex for someone you love, and if you want casual encounters don’t be embarrassed to pull out a condom.

Wouldn’t it be more embarrassing to have a man jumping up and down on national TV because he’s so excited you didn’t carry his child?

Today’s Horoscope…

from Astrocenter:

This may be one of those days when there are hundreds of people around you, dear Virgo, and yet you feel completely alone. For some reason, no one seems to understand your perspective. Your incredible sensitivity and emotionalism is putting you in a category of your own. Try not to ostracize yourself from the group. Reach out to others instead of pulling back away from them. You have more in common with other people than you think.

Being alone in the middle of a crowd is something I’ve always dreamed of. I experienced it more than two years ago walking down the street in Polish Town, Chicago at 5 pm. It was everything I’d hoped it would be. Gloriously anonymous in a sea of bodies, bodies who may or may not know each other. Bodies who may or may not know I was new to the area and desperately seeking The Red Apple Buffet.


However, the prophecy above speaks to a different kind of anonymity. A kind of anonymity I’m far too familiar with. From the 4th grade on, I lived in Ackley, Iowa and never felt more out of place. I never felt like I belonged here, even after I began to get to know people and make friends. Something about this place always rubbed me the wrong way, and made me feel like an outcast.

I wasn’t Abercrombie & Fitch material. I wasn’t a size 6. I wasn’t moderately rich enough to have all the things my peers did. I wasn’t athletic. I put an education above and beyond anything else. I didn’t care what (or who) everyone else was doing. I didn’t even get along with the other people who felt this way about high school.

Everyone knew me, whether they wanted to or not, and because I didn’t want to know anyone else I felt alone in the crowd. I felt ostracized. So I admired, sought the real anonymity of a crowded city street, apartment building, corner coffee shop. I desired to walk down a street or hallway and truly not know the people abreast of me.

From what I’d learned, most of those people sucked anyway. What was the point of getting to know them?

This passage is telling me that I have more in common with other people than I know. Yeah, I can see the similarities: a brain, a heart, and a set of eyes.

The difference? I use mine.

FMyLife and other horrible secrets….

Recently, I’ve taken to reading the anonymous posts at FMyLife and My Horrible Secret. Both are sites dedicated to folks “logging in” and admitting the shitty things that have either happened to them or they’ve done to others, respectively. There are also links attached to each post. At Fmylife (FML), the “f” in the title is fairly obvious if you don’t already know, the links read: “I agree, your life is fucked” or “You deserved it”. Basically offering support to the one whose life is fucked or telling them they shouldn’t be such a jack-ass. At My Horrible Secret (MHS), the links read “Wow, you’re messed up” or “I’m just like you” allowing the “monster” writing the post to feel a little more human in their confession.

In my recent scouring, I’ve decided on a couple of things:

1) My life is truly not that bad. I may be a gay girl in the middle of Iowa with divorced parents, who doesn’t know how to drive, and nearly a hundred thousand dollars in debt (due to student loans), but I am not posting at MHS how I pluck my ingrown pubic hairs with my roommate’s tweezers because she ate my jelly. I mean, I’m just NOT living a life that messed up.

2) I’m not as mentally unstable as I thought, with my little secrets. I posted one or two to My Horrible Secret and it turns out lots of people feel the same way I do. Wow. Quite the revelation from folks looking to these sites to feel better about their situation. Then I read a comment from one poster that read “I click ‘I’m Just Like You’ on every post.” FML.

3) Based on certain posts from FML, your parents, your significant others, and perfect strangers are the worst people on the planet. They will be the first to tell you that you’re fat, make you feel stupid, or bet against your sex life. Especially when they are drunk, under the impression you can’t hear them talking, or watching you eat some of the free bread before you order. I mean, c’mon what happened to basic human decency? But I guess there is a certain charm to knowing how these people actually feel about you. Why live blissfully lied to, when you can struggle through life knowing the complete truth?

4) Reading posts from MHS, I will never, ever have a roommate I didn’t know in advance. Further, I will never trust another significant other as long as I live. Most people are disgusting freaks who need to find a better way to vent their emotions rather than take it out on the unsuspecting public, roomie, ex-girl-or-boyfriend, or random fat chick.

But can I stop reading them? No. They truly do make me feel better about the piddly-ass problems I’m facing right now. Some of them are sick and twisted, others are sad and totally wrong. Being the reader of these admissions and secrets, you get to judge them! Feel free to make the sick fuckers feel like the monsters they are, then go and tell that poor girl that her life is messed up because her mother bet her father $20 she wasn’t a virgin anymore. But like the moderators at My Horrible Secret demand, judge those people but don’t be a douche bag about it!

Daily Horoscope

“Once you stop dreaming about having “super powers” you will feel a lot better, dear Virgo. You are not a super hero and you never were. For that matter, no one is. On the other hand, you surely have capacities that you have exploited in the past, but now you seem persuaded that they are of no interest. It is time to rethink this issue.”

Hm… Thanks Horoscope. I’ll keep that in mind while no one takes an interest in my previously exploited capacities… *le sigh*

Today… So far…

I’ve got a headache, throbbing actually. I haven’t written anything of significance since I stepped off the bus from North Carolina. Barely ten pages, honestly. I haven’t touched any further revisions on my novel. Further, I feel like I haven’t slept in ten years. Ugh! I just lack motivation and I don’t know what to do to get it back. All I want to do is… well… something close to nothing but I have the third Twilight novel (Eclipse) staring me in the face and the fact that I will soon be unemployed hanging off my shoulders. UGH! Now writing is feeling like a “should” instead of a “want” and that scares the shit out of me…

Captain Creepy!

Ever since I saw him in “The Devil’s Rejects” I have been enamored with Bill Moseley. He plays creepy characters so well. Originating his role and reprising it for the Rob Zombie duo was a no-brainer, really. I haven’t seen any of his early work, but I desperately want to. I just watched a movie last night starring Moseley and Leslie Easterbrook (“Rejects” fans will recognize her) called “House.” It was excellent, with a little bit of cheese thrown in at the end. Michael Madsen also makes an appearance, and – honestly – I’m glad to see him in something other than a mobster movie! 😉

Check out “House”!

Media and Communication

You think you have all this stuff to say, and then you are granted an outlet for it. A great medium where you can reach large groups of people at the same time – and any opinion you ever had suddenly goes flying out the window. There isn’t a single thought in your head without some dire connection to the pressure to perform. A robotic voice in your head bleeping about being funny, being dramatic, bring in the viewers. Odd.

I have a webcam and I’m on Skype: meliswenk

If you have Skype, let me know your name and we can chat… Not “that kind” of chat either…



I’m Sorry, You’re Sniffing What?

I was speaking to my friend Brandy the other day when she alerted me to an email floating around her former place of employment. This is no bit of news. Forwards are often the fodder of corporate inboxes, but this email was slightly different. It was alerting parents to the “newest” drug craze amongst teenagers and adults who choose to remain acting like teenagers: Jenkem. While I don’t have the details from the actual email in question, I did a bit of research and the newest update circulating on the topic is circa 2007. Anything newer has been recreated from those 2007 accounts of the drug.

Jenkem, an alleged hallucinogenic recreational drug, is created the fermentation of human fecal matter. To collect jenkem, the waste (urine and solid waste) is kept in a jar topped with a balloon and left out in the sun for just a couple of days. The balloon is then cinched, to be removed from the top of the jar, and the gasses inside are inhaled.

Jenkem is also known on the street as: Waste, Fruit from the Crack Pipe, and Butthash

Um… Ew.

Life can suck. It can suck a lot! I will be the first, unfortunately, to step up and talk about how much I don’t have and what isn’t going right for me. I have a tendency to take what I do have going for me for granted. It’s apparent. After hearing about these folks, I know my life doesn’t suck quite so badly.

In essence these people are huffing shit fumes to make life appear better. I mean, that’s why we turn to mind-altering substances, right? To make life a little bit better than it is when we look through the sober spectacles. We smoke cigarettes to take the edge off, we drink beer/liquor to forget, and tend to smoke weed to add some lively color to life. But how badly does your life have to suck to resort to inhaling the gas from your fermented shit to get through the day?!

If huffing fermented shit fumes takes you one step up, Buddy, you have bigger problems than I do, and I’m sending you some good thoughts. Hell, I’m gonna pray for you. You need it!

Brandy and I continued talking about this because it was just too disgustingly ridiculous not to. We started questioning how bad our lives were and why we weren’t resorting to huffing shit to get by. I mentioned how I hadn’t had carnal knowledge of another human being in about three years. To which she responded, “Three years?!” and went on to state that the next person who appeared in my life should maybe have a bit more lenient criteria strapped to them. To which I so sarcastically responded, “The next person who hits on me will probably be sniffing their own shit.”

What about the people who are sleeping with the guy* sniffing their own shit? Do I want to be that girl? If I’m the girl sleeping with the guy sniffing his own shit, wouldn’t I be forced to sniff some shit to take the edge off? No other drug could really compare, could it?

*And don’t lie – we all know it will be a guy huffing the fumes from his own fermented shit. Guys have a tendency to leave worn, sweaty gym clothes in the designated bag in a hidden corner of their closets. Only to discover them, months later, and open the bag, breathe deep, gag or throw up in their mouths a little, and then call all their friends to come smell it, too. And the friends come running, desperately seeking the next newest gross-out. Women are more likely to huff window cleaner to get through a stressful day than something as disgusting as shit.*

I then pondered how it was inhaled. Was it inhaled through the nose or mouth? I mean, through your nose couldn’t be much worse than smelling a really nasty fart, right? If you think about it – we’ve all been trapped in a car with the windows up and someone drops an ass bomb unlike any ass bomb before it. We’ve all lived to tell the tale, but I’ve never seen dancing hippos for my trouble. If you inhale it through your mouth, it’s kind of like eating a shitty ass cloud. You could really get an idea what shit tastes like*.

*Because we’ve all said, at one time or another, “Damn, that tastes like shit!”*

Then, for shits and giggles (lolz *rolls eyes*), I wondered how the shit junkies got it in the jar. What a competition that would be, huh? Set the jar in the bottom of a bucket and shit into the bucket, hoping for the best. Whoever fills the jar first is the big winner and gets the better buzz, I suppose.

Brandy and I discussed the Jenkem (we never used that word, but how many times can ‘shit’ appear in one blog???) Junkie. The room would be filled with nasty, poo-filled jars and used balloons. The user would be naked, lying in the middle of his bed with empty Ex-Lax boxes all around him, panting and crying:

“I just can’t shit anymore.”

What if the people had to shit into the balloons?! I wonder aloud, nearly hysterical at this point. Tears are streaming down my face, and I’m sure Brandy has a Kleenex or two near by for her own bouts of uncontrollable laughter. “You’re skipping steps there,” she tells me after choking out some more laughter. Imagine a guy surrounded by balloons coated in shit because he just couldn’t get the hole open wide enough.

Ew! Ew, ew, ew!!!

Well, after all of this I decided this would be the world’s best blog and did some ‘Net research on the topic. As I said before, the most recent legitimate update to this business stems from 2007. I found two internet articles about it [here] and [here]. There is also a Snopes article and Wikipedia article about Jenkem.

All I have to say, is I’m so glad my life doesn’t suck so badly that I need to resort to canning my shit and sniffing the fumes out of a balloon to take it a step up.

Not a Morning Person

I live with loud people. Anybody who knows me and my family can attest to that a million times over. And it isn’t a banging around the house, slamming doors, shoving chairs into tables kind of loud. Our voices carry, unless we make a concerted effort to be quiet, we speak rather loudly without even trying. While I was doing plays, that trick worked very well in my favor. While my sister greets people 5-10 feet away from her at the local grocery store, such a volume of voice is necessary. My mom will “say” hello to you from across the street and greet you with the biggest smile in creation.

Truly, I love these people with all my heart, but…

not at 6:50 in the god-damned morning when I have a 7 hour shift with a 3 month old and two younger children at a church function out of town. The 7 hour shift starts at 1. A normal person could maybe get a 30-45 minute nap between now and then. But, if you’ve learned anything so far, it’s that I’m not freakin’ normal! There will be no nap. I will be able to function, but I’m not sure I will be a happy camper about it. Maybe I will be ok once I’m not around the “talkers” in question.

With a very unfortunate circumstance, my bedroom is right beside the room where the dining room table is. My mom and sister wake up a good hour-and-a-half to two hours before I do on a fairly regular basis. It’s their voices I wake up to. Most days I’m only mildly irritated. Today, considering I woke up a couple of times last night and didn’t get the best night’s sleep, I’m deeply irritated. How hard can it fucking be to speak quietly, to NOT shout across the house to each other when it’s damned obvious someone is sleeping IN THE NEXT ROOM?!

Am I wrong here?

Wait until my sister comes back into the dining room. Don’t speak at full volume once she gets there. Hey, Sister, you don’t have to shout across the table to Mom about how some stupid-ass paparazzi is talking shit about how Miley Cyrus is out jogging or whatever that bullshit conversation you had at the top of your lungs was about.

Is it too much to ask???

Oh, sure, now they’re being quiet because I wasn’t exactly pleasant with them when I walked out of my room to use the bathroom and feed Midas, my fish. Of course!


A brand new camera and This is my chance!

Hello all! This is going to be quite the update, if only because you’re getting two stories for the price of one. 😉

First, I’ve decided on a new digital camera. It’s in the mail as we speak. I went to Wal-Mart near my house (about 15 minutes away) and the cheapest cameara in stock actually had “first born child” on the price sticker. It kind of made me sick. I mean, really. I don’t even have a first-born yet. And I guess you can’t put an item with a price like that on lay-away. They did have good, more reasonably priced cameras on display and I found one I liked: Samsung S860.

Hold on! Don’t click that pretty little link yet. Come back to it, I promise it isn’t going anywhere. 🙂

The funniest thing about all of this is that on the way to Iowa Falls, to go to Wal-Mart, my sister was talking about how she had a feeling the camera I wanted would end up being on sale. I scoffed and practically laughed her out of the car. Which would have been dangerous considering the fact she was driving. Nonetheless, we got to Satan’s Shopping Mall and looked at the DigiCam stock. As I’ve already stated, nothing within my price range and I left pissed. Did I berate her for her prediction, no. I simply brushed it off as a sweet little sister’s wishful thinking. She knows how much I love photography now that I’ve taken it up.

So, we completed our other tasks and I came home to search for a new camera online. Wal-Mart had a cheaper, very un-pink version of the camera I liked at the store. But it was out-of-stock online. I just about pulled my freakin’ hair out!!! I began checking out other websites: overstock.comcircuitcity.com (more on this later), and amazon.com.

Best Buy has a connotation in my head as being expensive. Like “Just give us your arm, leg, and soul when you walk in” type expensive. And I never shop there if I can help it. However, I saw that pretty little camera (you can go ahead and click the link now if you like) ON SALE, in stock, and only about 5 dollars more expensive than Wal-Mart.

WHAT THE FRICK??? Right? I know, me too! I freaked right out. On top of the fact that the damn thing ended up being on sale. I went right into Alicea‘s room and told her about it. She just laughed and said, “Told you so.” then continued on with her video game. I went back to my room satisfied and wondering if my sister somehow contracted ESP… Hm….

Secondly, my sister and I were in the grocery store yesterday picking up some ‘zzas (“pizza” to the unwashed) when Keith, the co-owner approached me about my writing.

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that you write,” he said.

“Yeah, I write,” I chuckled, instantly blushing.

He then went on to ask me if I would write their Employee Handbook. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! A real, technical-writing gig. Good Lord! I’ve been told by an interested third party that I may even get paid for this. Even if I don’t, it will be a published work of mine that is used and can be applied to my resume!

Holy Tuna Fish – It’s a paying, professional writing job!

YAY! *does the happy dance*

He and his wife (the other co-owner) have all the information that I can pick up from the store in the next few days. I can take my time (Heaven!) and they completely trust me with format and writing any content that doesn’t already exist in their notes.

SWEET!!!! *continues with the happy dance* I’ve already started doing Internet research on Employee Handbook content and form. It appears to be like any other form of corporate policy manual: wordy, redundant, and HUGE! But for a small-town grocery store with less than 100 employees/positions, I don’t think this undertaking will be too much. I’m super excited, and can’t wait to get started!

FYI: If you check the Circuit City link earlier in the post, you will see that CC has closed! WTF? I really liked Circuit City when it was open. I saw it as a kind of poor man’s Best Buy, and if I remember correctly it existed before BB, didn’t it? Anyway, kind of made me sad and shocked to see that.

Hope you all enjoy your weekend! 😉